Got My Wings
by Mizra
Summary: After a job well done, Dean decides it's time for a mini-vacation with his brother. Written for the Team Free Love gift exchange at team free love on LiveJournal.


**Title:** Got My Wings  
**Beta:** mrscastielftw  
**Rating:** PG-13  
**Genre and/or Pairing:** Fluff, schmoop and with a dash of snarky humor; Dean/Castiel, Sam/Gabriel  
**Spoilers:** Anything up to 5x19, really.  
**Warnings:** Wink!kink, Chocolate Snack Pack, hatred for sparkly vampires and a jazzercise outfit (and warmers... of the leg kind.)  
**Word Count:** ~4,200  
**Notes/Prompts:** Pudding, Jazzercise, Twilight (hate) and wing!kink. First slash story I've ever written and also first fic exchange I've written for. May Chuck have mercy on my blasphemous soul. Title inspired by the song 'Got My Wings' by Hazy Malaze and 'Crossfire' by Brandon Flowers.

**Summary:** _After a job well done, Dean decides it's time for a mini-vacation with his brother. Written for the Team Free Love Secret Lover Gift Exchange on LJ._

**Art/Visual Aids: **on profile ;)

**Got My Wings**

Sam woke up in a motel room, plastered in sweat and the sickly-sweet smell of candy wrappers and packages of pudding all over the room. His first thought was to his brother, who must have went on a sweet-tooth rampage (he did love candy), but his second instinct told him this wasn't true. He looked over at his side to find a bare-chested archangel smiling up at him.

"Hey there, Sam. Have a nice nap?"

**48 HOURS EARLIER**

The autumn leaves falling all over the deciduous part of the United States, their foilage creating a patchwork quilt of rich reds, warm golds and chocolate browns. It was also Halloween.

"Come on, Sammy! It's Halloween!" said Dean, one hand on the steering wheel of his beloved car, the other wildly illustrating his point. "Candy time, party time!"

"Yeah, Dean, a virtual treasure trove of future cavities and one-night stands," quipped Sam, still looking over the map. To his best bet, they were in Kentucky, near Elizabethtown.

"You're such a douche, Sam. Always ruining my fun."

Sam turned sharply to his brother. "Fun? Like the time when we had to gank that Samhain guy as one of the seals?"

Dean rolled his eyes and kept driving.

"Or the witch who stuck hex bags in that guy's kitchen so he'd choke on razor blades in the candy?"

"Fluke, dude. It was the skeevy witch. Had nothing to do with the Baby Ruths I ate."

Sam raised a brow. "Look, all I'm saying is that it wouldn't kill you to celebrate in a _healthy_ way."

Dean laughed hard at that one. "What? And shake myself a salad? Chug a gallon of water?" He made a disgusted sound. "We just finished a simple salt and burn case, brother. We're celebrating _my_ way.

And we're celebrating it with candy and a Halloween party."

It was Sam's turn to roll his eyes.

They pulled up to a motel outside the town proper and rented two rooms. "Because if I'm getting lucky this weekend, you're gonna need your own room."

"I'll be very grateful," he said, trying not to sound too sickened by that. He had sat in the car a time or two while Dean _took care of business_. Not so much out of courtesy to his brother, but mostly out of mental health for himself. He figured knowing anything about his brother's sex life would scar him forever.  
"I'm going to order a pizza. Want anything else?" Sam asked, waving his phone at him.

"Make sure there's extra olives on it," Dean called back. He slipped the card in the slot, opened the door, and threw his duffel on the bed. Stretching out across the mattress, he settled to close his eyes and breathed in – for once – a motel room not mustier than Bobby's attic.

He began to sigh, daydreaming of the party he noticed going on with some co-eds this weekend. _So glad this is a partying town_, he thought. _Not much to do around the local Elizabethtown Community and Technical College._

Lost in thought over the many potentials he'd see while crashing a college party, Dean never heard the soft flutter of wings at his bedside. He did, however, jump like he'd been shot when a hand grasped his shoulder.

"Geez, Cas! Could ya give me a little warning next time?" He sat up, flexing his shoulder from where he had wrestled the last monster to the ground. It would probably be black and purple in another day it was so sore.

The angel's rich blue eyes flickered. "I'm sorry, Dean. But you have to find the witch here."

Dean let out a grown and flopped back on the bed. "Aw, come on, Cas! We've been here a whole fifteen minutes! Can't we take a break?"

He watched as Dean worked the kinks from his bicep, tricep and shoulder, muscles working fluidly and smoothly, back and forth. Cas sighed and rubbed his neck. "I suppose a brief respite will help. Your shoulder will be nearly black tomorrow."

Dean rubbed it more gingerly this time. "Yeah, that'll be good." He looked about his room and noticed the co-eds party flyer on his bed from where he'd torn it from downstairs.

Then Dean got an awful, wicked idea.

"Hey, Cas, buddy," he asked, sounding both menacing and gleeful. "How about you attend your first costume party?"

Sam unloaded his pack and sat on the bed. All he wanted was to close his eyes and sleep. His entire body ached. It was then he noticed something. The scent of something sweet. It was like a soft smell, like baked goods. He sniffed around, getting up and going toward the door. The scent became stronger when he got to do bathroom door. Cautiously, he turned the knob. Opening the door, he found a very sparkled, bedazzled archangel – Gabriel to be exact – in what appeared to be leg-warmers and a striped jazzercise outfit. He really didn't want to know.

"Hiya, Sasquatch! What's up?" said the Trickster, grinning madly from ear-to-ear.

"Gabriel? What the hell are you doing here?"

"Oh, I was just passing through when I heard you yay-hoos were in town," he began, strolling out of the bathroom, sparkling purple ensemble glittering every which way. "Plus, I can't resist a good party."

"I'm not going to any party that Dean goes to, Gabriel," he said, turning to walk back to his bed and flop down unceremoniously.

"Come on, Jolly Green. It's Halloween! There's candy to eat and skirts to chase," he said, that ever-present wicked gleam in his eye. "What's not to like about this little vacation?"

Sam turned over and sat up. Gabriel appeared in front of him, on the other side. Sam closed his eyes.

"I guess I just wanted a slow weekend to just sleep after so many weeks on the job..."

Gabriel stared at him a second, then snapped his fingers.

"I've got just the costume for you, then."

And he disappeared.

Dean noticed the problem first with Cas. His wings were showing. Not that he hadn't seen them before, but not everyone was supposed to see them.

"I don't think I understand what is happening, Dean. But I don't believe I can go out anywhere showing my wings."

"Nonsense, Cas. This costume will be perfect for you. No one will give a second look at those-" _beautiful, dark feathers_, he said internally. "Everyone will be looking at you with a costume. No one will notice."

"I don't think this is quite appropriate, Dean," Cas said, fumbling with the jacket collar. Dean had loosened the tie profusely and his it hung limply around his neck. He then handed him a package of cigarettes and told him to keep them in his jacket pocket. He did so.

Dean had a hunch, but he thought it might be that witch Cas told him about earlier. Guess they will have to gank her this weekend, then. _After the party, if this is the worst she can come up with. _

"You'd make a great Constantine, Cas," Dean said, standing back to admire his handiwork. He didn't really do much, but muss up Cas' hair more and carefully place the pack of Viceroy's he lifted from downstairs.

"What does a Roman emperor from the early 300s have to do with any of this?" His head was tilted at the questioning angle Dean found, well, interesting. He was not going to say it was cute or adorable. That was for 'tweens. He laughed, however, at the comment and tussled Castiel's hair. For effect.

"Nothing. It's the guy from the movie, you know, Keanu Reeves? Tilda Swinton?"

When Castiel didn't do anything, Dean gave up on explaining. _Some things you just can't tell him_, he thought to himself.

"So, yeah, we're gonna crash that co-ed party tonight," he said, not-so-artfully changing the subject. "And there will be ladies, beer, and kinky costumes. Feel free to join in at any time tonight, Cas. As for me," he said, grabbing the bag from the bed that said 'Value Costumes'. "I've got the BEST costume ever to wear tonight."

Cas looked at him thoughtfully. It wasn't like he didn't expect this kind of behavior from Dean, but, really, there was an Apocalypse to strategize for; not some pagan holiday to celebrate the consumption of sugary treats, alcoholic beverages and uninhibited females. Never mind the strange sensation in his chest that whispered that Castiel _himself_ was the one who wanted to be uninhibited with Dean. He didn't understand it, but, then again, he rarely understood many human emotions. Especially as he was becoming more human each day.

Again, however, according to what he had seen so far with the Winchesters, becoming human didn't seem _all_ bad.

"Wait for me here, will ya?" he said, before turning and locking himself in the bathroom.

Castiel sighed and looked about his person. He looked more messy than usual, but nothing obscene. Not like the time Dean had taken him to that house of ill repute and he had nearly lost his shirt... and then some. _What to do? Do I let him go? Enjoy himself for a short while?_

Castiel could see Dean's face in his mind, lighting up. The man loved to have fun. Whether it be with food, drink or, well, women. But Cas lately didn't want Dean to be with other women. He wanted him here, with him. For himself. A feeling that had blossomed in him for some time now was threatening to overtake him completely. He had to tell Dean how he felt, even if he _himself_ didn't understand it completely.

Sam had just stepped into his motel room, Caesar salad in hand when he heard a loud thump. And the flutter of wings. He stopped, waiting for Cas to show up, but nothing. He began again to make his way to the side table when the ruffling of feathers caught his attention. He looked sharply to the bathroom door. Another _Thump!_ and Sam burst open the door. There was Gabriel, still dressed in that Jane Fonda getup, looking in the mirror. Huge, honey-colored wings were carefully unfolding and re-folding themselves against his back. He had never seen any angel's wings before, and the more he looked, the more he wanted to card his fingers through the feathers. _They looked so soft, so beautiful_, he thought, mesmerized by the faint glow cast off from the Grace that Gabriel still had. Even after so many years of playing Trickster. He was still the great herald Gabriel.

And, weirdly enough, absolutely the most handsome creature Sam had ever seen.

"Sam! What the hell do you see?" Gabriel asked, an uncharacteristic quiver in his voice.

Sam swallowed a moment. "Um, your wings, Gabriel. I see your wings."

"DAMMIT! I knew it!" he bellowed, turning around sitting on the toilet, feathers fluttering around until it looked like a downy sea of gold on the tile floor.

"What's wrong? _Why_ can I see your wings?"

Gabriel sighed. "It's got to be that filthy little witch in this area. Must be a spell or something. We're going to have to break it. I can't go out like this!" he yelled. Sam tried to calm him down, but that didn't go well. He thought of that stupid party Dean wanted him to go to, and realized something.

"I think it's gonna be fine, Gabriel. Listen to me," he said, cautiously going over to the angel and putting his hand on his shoulder. Meant to be a reassuring gesture. Not that he wanted to put his hand on angel's shoulder or anything. Ok, maybe he did, but he was only trying to help.

"What if we dressed you up like a "real" angel? Makeshift halo, white robe and harp? People would never otherwise know the difference."  
Gabriel stared off for a second, then a smile curled on his lips. "You know, you're not so bad for an eleventy-foot tall hunter."

Sam smiled back. "Thanks. I think." He left the angel in the motel bathroom to run down the road to 'Value Costumes'. He picked up what looked like an angel costume and one for himself. He thought of the outfit Gabriel was already wearing... and why it _had to be_ Jane Fonda. He hadn't told Dean, but she was his first crush. Watching her perform those exercise moves on the TV set in the hotel room, long legs and a slight sheen of sweat coating her body. Even _he_ knew then how hot she looked.

And now Gabriel had dressed up as her. What new Freudian horror was this? He liked Gabriel, that much he could admit, but how could he tell his brother? He had no idea and decided to just keep it on the down-low for now. See what happened next.

_Oh, that looks different_, he remarked in his head, staring at a costume. _Maybe that one would work._

He bought both costumes and left the store.

"Who you gonna call?" Dean yelled, jumping out of the bathroom like he was five-years-old. Complete with proton pack, Dean Winchester was going as... a ghostbuster.

"Think Bill Murray would be mad if I stole some of his best lines tonight?" he laughed, adjusting the tan suit and making sure his 'P. Venkman' nametag was straight.

Castiel just looked a bit confused, but said nothing. No sense in asking what it was now. He was sure Dean would explain later. "Let us go and collect your brother."

A few minutes later, both men were in the hallway, knocking on the door. A 'just a second' was heard.  
Not two minutes later, Sam came out in leather sandals, a metal skirt and red cape and helmet. He was a Roman soldier.

And then Dean was laughing. "Oh my God, Sammy! This is... the douchiest costume... you've ever... worn!" he said, between guffaws. Sam showed him a bitchface and cleared his throat. "If you're done laughing, I dressed like this because Gabriel is here, too. And we have a problem."

Dean swallowed another chuckle. "Yeah, I already know. Cas' got the same problem, too." He jerked his thumb toward the Keanu Reeves look-alike behind him. "Already taken care of for the meantime."

Sam looked approvingly over the angel and his brother, then turned behind him to Gabriel. He had refused to lose the jazzercise costume and kept it on, wearing the garland halo and sandals with his leg-warmers. He looked ridiculous, but wasn't going to say a word. After all, he was the 'Angel of Jazzercise Past', apparently.

"So, we ready to go, fellas?" Dean asked, a smile on his face, goggles moving wildly on his forehead.

Gabriel appeared around Sam. "Nah, I think we'll stay here tonight. I've got a headache," he said, dramatically raising a hand to his head, sighing sickly. He leaned into Sam, pressing against him.

"Uh, I, uh," he began, flustered. "I better stay with him. In case he gets sicker." _That was the lousiest lie I ever told and Dean knows it._

Castiel perked an eyebrow, but said nothing to his brother. _Perhaps he was, indeed, sick. I had no idea archangels could get sick like that. Maybe it's from being on Earth for so long... _

Dean did scrunch his eyebrows in thought, then shook his head. "Okie doie, then, we're off to chase the skirts, Sam," Dean announced, turning away and began down the staircase. Castiel followed behind him.

After Sam closed the door to his room, Gabriel flopped down on the bed, somehow grabbing the remote and 'mojo-ing' a bucket of popcorn to his side.

"What's with the headache act?" Sam asked. He felt really stupid now in this costume all of a sudden, now the he didn't have to go. He hated Halloween anyway.

"How else was I supposed to get you alone tonight?" Gabriel said with a smirk, never missing a crunch of the popcorn.

"WHAT?"

"Alone? You know, when two people want to be together but not in public? Alone."

"Why would you want me alone?" Sam asked, not really sure if he wanted to hear the answer.

Gabriel stopped eating popcorn and stood up. He walked over to Sam and smiled in a way that Sam had never seen before, one that actually made him feel safe, secure.  
And loved.

Gabriel stood on his tiptoes, reaching his arms around Sam's neck. He felt him go rigid, maybe a bit unsure or frightened, but he knew exactly what to do to dispel all fear.

"What are you thinking, Sam?" he asked, his breath close and hot against Sam's chest. Sam tried to think of something to say, but all he saw was Gabriel and his beautiful, honey-hued wings. He reached out between them to loosely brush his fingers through the feathers near Gabriel's shoulders. _So soft, like velvet or cashmere._ Sam closed his eyes, reveling in the touch, the proximity of the angel and himself. Closing the distance between them, Gabriel pressed his lips against Sam's own, his wings enveloping them both.

Dean had been at the party for only an hour. One hour. It was easy to slip past the guard dog at the front door; some sophomore wannabe frat house dude. But once he was in, he was in. The music was thumping loudly, beer was being drunk by the gallon. All the while, Cas stood next to Dean's side like a shadow. He never moved unless Dean did, and never seemed to want to go off on his own.

"Cas, remember? Personal space?" Dean huffed, nearly sloshing his PBR all over the angel. Castiel sniffed the air. Dean was acting gruffer than usual and he stank of the ridiculous alcohol.

"Dean, you're drunk."

"Damn straight I am," he said, with a smile plastered on his face.

Castiel sighed, for what felt like the five hundredth time. He needed to get Dean back to the motel to sleep off what would be a hangover. He had learned that much from either of the Winchesters when it came to drinking copious amounts of alcohol.

"Come, Dean. You need to get back. Sam is waiting on you." Cas began tugging on Dean's shirt sleeve, but the hunter moved his arm away and staggered.

"I will not leave yet! I haven't even picked up a chick, yet, you idiot!" he announced, stumbling back and knocking himself into a pretty red-head. He turned around tried to give his patented Dean Winchester smile, but he was so drunk that he came out more like a leer. She looked indignant, as Castiel could tell, and slapped him, walking away.

Dean rubbed his jaw, like it was such a worse pain than getting shot in the shoulder with a salt round.  
"Dammmiiiittt..." he slurred, continuing to rub his face. _Looks like I'm not getting any tonight. Damn, I had such big plans for that brunette in the corner, and that blonde off to the left... _

"Come along, Dean," Castiel said, with an air of finality. He pulled and pulled until he successfully led Dean away. He got him into his car and snatched the keys. He had no idea how to drive, but figured it was fairly simple. It was just a machine after all. And he had seen both brothers drive the vehicle easily over almost every terrain imaginable.

An hour later, the angel and hunter arrived safely in the parking lot. Cas tugged Dean up the stairs into his motel room. He flopped him on his bed and went to the bathroom to retrieve a wastebasket and some water. One for keeping fluid in him and the other to catch any fluid that came out.

Cas knelt on the bed, meticulously removing Dean's overcoat and boots. He hauled his legs over the side. Dean moaned, like he was ill. Cas nudged the wastebasket with his foot toward Dean's head.

"Oh, Cas... please... mojo me something for this stomach..." Dean said, clutching his stomach. He felt horrible already. How much liquor did he have? _I thought it was only beer... and that whiskey... and the weird concoction that smelled like ass... tasted like it, too, come to think of it... _

"You know I cannot simply 'mojo' medication for you, Dean. Is there something else that will help?"

Dean relaxed on the bed next to Castiel. He listened to Cas' breathing, soft and rhythmic. "Uh, find me _The Ghostbusters_ on Pay-Per-View."

Castiel searched the television for the movie. He smiled when he found it. Settling down and propping Dean's head up with some pillows, the pair sat and watched the film unfold. Soft laughter and a few anecdotes were shared. By the time it was over, Dean felt less queasy and was nearly asleep. Castiel looked him over, seeing this man. He knew everything about him, every secret shame, desire, freckle and childhood memory.

"Dean?" he asked, timid. "May I say something to you?"

"Shoot, Cas," Dean said, making a motion with his hand that said Say whatever you want.

Castiel swallowed and took a deep breath. "I want you to know that I value you as more than my charge. More than simply a man with a great mission ahead of him. You are very important to me, Dean Winchester."

He spoke the last words barely above a whisper. "And I love you."

Dean cracked an eye open and stared at the angel for a long time. Minutes passed and he watched the angel breath in and out, rub his neck and generally fidget. He had no idea what to say to him.

Other than that he loved him, too. Always had. He was just waiting for the right moment to tell him, too. He sat up gingerly and Castiel reached over to help him remain vertical. Dean smiled, then placed his hands on either side of Cas' face. Taking a moment to pause, he leaned in and kissed him. Cas' lips were soft and tasted like pears. How he could remember what pears tasted like, he had no idea, but that's what it was.

He pulled back and placed a kiss on Cas' forehead. "Just in case you don't know, that means that I love you, too."

**PRESENT DAY**

"So, that's what happened?" Sam asked Gabriel, who was propped up on his elbow, laying on his side.

"Yeah, that's pretty much it. Then you ganked that witch the next day." Gabriel pretended to study his nails and flashed them this way and that.

"And..." Sam began, stuttering slightly. "Us? What about... this?" he gestured between the two of them.

"Well, if you're asking if we slept together, then yes, we did," Gabriel said, with a laugh. He began to get up, snagging a purple bathrobe and wrapping it around himself.

"I, uh, I uh..."

Gabriel raised an eyebrow. "Well, don't clam up now, Moose. You were jabbering all night last night about how you never did this. Over and over again."

"Well, I haven't!" he stammered out. He blushed a furious shade of red and pulled the sheets closer around him. Finally, Gabriel let out a chuckle.

"Fine, fine. You got my awesome outfit trashed with your bottle of Bailey's last night. I stripped you and put you to bed. We did nothing."

Sam let out a breath he didn't realize he was holding. He didn't even remember the ganking nor the Bailey's...

"What about Dean? And Cas?"

Gabriel let out a trademark laugh and smirk. "Oh, I think they're just fine where they are. I wouldn't worry about those two at all."

He began to leave, but turned back around. "Oh, and Sam?"

Sam looked up from the bed. "Yes?"

And with that, Gabriel puffed his wings out in all their glory for Sam to see.

An hour later, both Winchesters were accounted for, loading their bags into the Impala. Sam was just standing in front of Gabriel, not really looking at him but not wanting to turn away, neither.

"OK, OK, Edward and Bella, let's go. Take your prepubescent romance somewhere else."

Gabriel looked at Dean and gave him a sneer. He pointed a finger up at the hunter. "Hey, I'm all for a melodramatic goodbye, but," his voice lowered considerably at this note. "If you hurt even one feather on my brother... I will go all 'Annie Get Your Gun' on your hunter ass. _Comprendé_?" He jerked his thumb over at Castiel, who was just looking small and meek. A rarity for the angel.

Dean paled a little, remembering exactly what it was Gabriel was capable of. "Yeah, sure."

Gabriel smiled widely and looked at Sam. He walked over, planted a big kiss on his lips and muttered "See ya, later, toots. I'll come back when you need me." With a suggestive wink, he fluttered away, disappearing.

Sam, red-faced as ever, lowered himself into the car to wait.

Dean looked at Cas, locking eyes with his blue ones. He gave him a small smile, to which the angel returned. "Take care of yourself, Cas. I'll see you soon?" He said it more like a question, as if keeping it an open invitation.

"Of course, Dean."

The brothers may have left the motel more relaxed than they had felt in a long time. Amazing what a relaxing weekend off the job, and with the ones you love, does to a person.


End file.
